Trippin'
by crabby but caffinated
Summary: Band trips are terrible things. Why is Jake the only one that thinks so?
1. Hot Tub

This is my first story. It's fictional, but some of these thing are very reminicent of my own Jazz Band. I'm not quite sure where I'm going with it though.

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You've got to be kidding. No way is this happening to me…again. I hate my life. I hate band trips even more.

We've only been here at the hotel for 20 minutes. I've hardly had time to disinfect the place. He can't be doing that in here. I've only just washed that.

"Put on your clothes, Steven," I say, going for stern, but ending up sounding like a cross between my 12 year old sister (who plays the CLARINET. How's that for forceful?…yeah right) and my Aunt Suzie when she's drunk.

Instead of going into the bathroom and retrieving his clothes, Steven sits on my bed, on my side, and reaches for the phone.

"Hey, it's Steven," he says into the phone. He's probably calling one of the girls. They think it's funny when he pulls stunts like this. They don't have to see it. All of it. Lucky. "Meet me and Jake at the pool in five minutes. Yes, I'll wear my swim suit this time. Bye." He looks at me, smiling as he hangs up. "I'll wear it into the pool. Who knows what I'll wear out."

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Ten minutes later I'm in the hot tub watching Steven. He's sitting too still. He's up to something. I should be paying more attention to Lisa. She's mad at me. Again. Can't I get anything right?

"Jake," Lisa says. I look at her. She looks like she's said my name a couple of times. "Jake, I have to talk to you about something."

This, of course, makes everyone turn to look at us. We have eighteen people in the hot tub. It only holds about seven. Secrets aren't secret for very long around here. I don't know why she'd try to talk to me about anything with everyone here. Has she lost her mind?

"Can we talk about it later?" I ask.

"Sure," she says, kissing me lightly on the cheek.

"No way," someone interrupts. I look up. Of course, Becca. She's always into everything. I can't believe I dated her. "No way do you get to bring up something and then let him back out. We're all dying to hear." Several people, including Steven, nod their heads affirmatively.

I'm about to argue with them when something stops me. Something blue.

Steven's swim trunks have floated to the top of the water.


	2. Hot Seat

OK, so here's the thing with me and Lisa. She's the boss. She's always been the boss. Even when I wasn't dating her she was the boss. She plays the trumpet. A girl who plays trumpet, she's got to have some strong willpower and determination to put up with _boys _that play the trumpet. Drive, focus, ambition, things a trombone boy like myself cannot possibly know or begin to understand.

So getting her to put off whatever was bothering her in the hot tub was nothing less than amazing for me. She must have finally come around and seen that sometimes it's better not to let people like Steven and Becca, and well, the whole band, hear about what's pissing her off at any given moment. That's what band gossip's for. If everyone's there, it doesn't have quite the same effect.

But right now she's sort of shooting daggers at me with her eyes. Maybe she's not coming around so much as waiting until everyone leaves so that she can kill me.

We're all sitting in the lobby. Steven's still in the hot tub. Naked. We're all getting the sofas all wet, but that's never stopped us before on band trips. Things like courtesy to the other guests and whatnot. Hotel lobbies just become our Band Room away from Home.

Everyone wants to play Hot Seat. It's this horrible game that everyone loves to play. It's like Truth or Dare. Without the Dare part, and everyone asks just one person the questions. Like I said, terrible game.

I steal a look across the room to Lisa. She's not sitting near me. She is usually all over me. Huh…I'll deal with that later, I guess.

"Jake, you're it." Someone says. It doesn't matter who, because everyone in the room agrees. They know I hate it, so they like to get me in early, before they all get too bored with the game.

"No." Like that'll stop them. I get off the couch and move to a chair that someone has put in the middle of the room. Jerks. I hate band trips.

"So, Jake," Sam starts, with this look in his eye, an _I'm going to kill you just to watch you die _look. "Have you ever made out with someone on a band bus?"

I just glare at him. "Yes."

Ryan glances up from his magazine. He always acts like he's too cool for this stuff. "How many people have you made out with on a band bus?"

"Two."

It's Lisa's turn to glare. She's not one of them.

But Dillan takes his turn, glancing at my charming girlfriend. "Who was the last person you made out with on a band bus?"

I pause before this one. "Becca."

Now it's Becca's turn to glare at me. That was over a year ago that she and I were together. Lisa and I have been together since, and we've gone on several band trips. I don't know why she's glaring at me. Everyone knows we went out, but we just don't talk about it. It makes Lisa want to rip heads apart or something. Right now she looks like she's going to cry. Crap.

"Have you ever been in love?" Sonya asks. She's a freshmen. She doesn't know what she's starting to mess with asking that question.

"Yes."

"With how many people?" She asks. Second questions are not allowed. No one protests though.

Another pause. "One."

Lisa looks relieved. It's her turn now. I'm not feeling so relieved. "With me?" she asks quietly.

"No."


	3. Million Dollar Question

This is from Becca's POV. I tried to bring back the funny. Jake's POV felt a little too whiny/angsty/whipped boyfriend for this scene. Still not sure where I'm going with this story, but it's all about the journey, not the destination, right?

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Oh. My. Gosh.

Did he really just do that? Because if so, I owe Tuba Mike ten bucks. And I'll have to buy a new dress to wear to Idiot Boy's funeral when his crazy girlfriend kills him dead.

Oh man. If it weren't the funniest thing I've heard since the "How do you get a Flute girl in bed with you" joke, I'd be completely freaking out right now.

Wait a second. I am freaking out right now. He's been in love, but not with Psycho? OK, I can't go there right now. There's funny still going on in front of me.

When Jake answered her question, she looked at me. Like it's my fault the kid doesn't have a brain. Well, to not be in love with her is just good common sense. To tell her he's not in love with her is suicide. Neither are my fault though.

"You bitch," she yelled at me. Then she stormed off.

Tuba Mike followed her. He's been trying to get in her pants since sophomore year, not like it's that hard. Anyway, the surprising thing is that Jake didn't follow. He was looking at his feet. Yeah, like the size 13 boats have the answers to all your problems.

"So," I said, nonchalantly. "My turn."

"Fire away," he replied to his feet. "Not like it can get much worse."

"What are you going to do now?"

"This." He got up from his seat. He came towards me. He held out his hand.

I took it, against my much better judgement.

Band trips are so funny. In a totally screwed up way.

"This had better be good," I said to him as we left the lobby and went outside, where everyone would have to freeze to eavesdrop. Like that's ever stopped them before.


	4. Maybe Things Could Be Worse

(Jake)

Band trips suck. They really really suck. There's something fundamentally wrong about the entire world shrinking to fifty people, only fifteen of whom are worth talking to.

Good thing I hate band trips. Because this is my last one. Either Lisa or Becca is going to kill me before we even get to the _band _part of this trip. Given my luck, they'll probably get over hating each other long enough to kill me together.

OK, so I should probably explain myself about now. I like Lisa. I really do. She's great. She's gorgeous, and there's something about her that makes everyone turn and look at her. She's a take-charge kind of girl. She knows what she wants, and she's going to get it no matter what. Really, she chose me, and I'm just along for the ride. I'm not complaining, really. I guess.

But then there's Becca. She's a strong person. She does everything with her whole self. She gives her music everything, which is something I've always found geeky in most people, but in her is really cute. She loves with her whole heart, and without regrets. She doesn't apologize for who she is, or allow anyone else to apologize for who they are either. She hates phonies, and refuses to compromise herself or what she believes in for anything.

I screwed up big with her. And she's never forgiven me. We've never really talked since. Maybe if I talk to her tonight, we can be friends. She's one of the funnier girls I know. And since Lisa isn't going to be speaking with me for awhile, I might as well find myself a friend.

_Man, it's cold out here._

"I'm sorry," I say to Becca.

"No, it's cool," she replies. "I like it when boys break my heart to screw the local ho."

"What? I meant–"

"I know what you meant, Idiot. It's fine about the other thing. I figured you were in love with the freshman. Man, clarinet girls will get you every time."

"You always did that," I say, not looking at her.

"What?" she asks, defensive now.

"Made jokes to avoid really talking."

"True, but I'm not the one who just got screwed with his pants on, so you don't have too much on me."

She's right. "I'm in love with you."

She just laughs at me.

"No, really," I say. "I thought I wasn't. I mean, I know I used to be, but, well, I've been thinking about it, and I think I still am. You know, in love."

More laughing.

Now I'm starting to get worried. "Hey, it's not that funny. I'm being serious." I get a little louder now. "I love you Rebecca Hailey Johnson. Now stop laughing at me, and tell me you love me too."

Now she's not laughing. Now she's getting up. And walking back inside. And leaving me here in the cold. Alone.

Oh crap.

Not so much with the alone. The trombone section just popped out from behind a bench. And there's the trumpets behind a truck, and everyone else coming out of their little hiding spots.

I look inside. Lisa's standing in the doorway. Huh…well, this sucks.

I _hate_ band trips.


End file.
